


Stop And Stare

by starbuckmeggie



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Post Bartlett Administration, Santos Administration, post Bartlet Administration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25859068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbuckmeggie/pseuds/starbuckmeggie
Summary: I think I'm moving but I go nowhere. I know that everyone gets scared. The continuing story of Fourteen Days.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Comments: 38
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

Donna’s head rests against my thigh. I run my fingers through her soft hair, watching as the strands fall like water after every pass. The TV’s on, but I have no idea what we’re watching. She seems content from her prone position on the couch and that’s all that matters.

There’s nothing more that I want than to be in this moment with her. To be with her in any moment. To just be with her.

I almost lost this.

What would my life be without her in it? I need her like I need air. No—it’s more than that. If I didn’t have her, having air wouldn’t matter. Maybe it’s not healthy to be this tangled up in someone, to not know where you end and she begins, but it’s who we are. Our lives have been intertwined for so long that trying to separate them would be next to impossible.

Spending the rest of my life with her is more than I deserve.

She shifts a little, pressing her head against my stomach as she slides her left hand under my thigh, wrapping her arms around my leg. Her engagement ring sparkles in the light of the TV, making my heart thump painfully. We’re so close.

My fingers leave her hair and my hand trails down her side until I can rest my hand on her hip, giving it a squeeze. “Can you believe it?”

“Believe what?” she asks, her voice soft, a tired edge to it.

I give her hip another playful squeeze. “That we’ll be married in less than a week. Five days to be exact.”

She lets out a soft laugh—I can feel it more than hear it. “Yeah.”

Not the ringing endorsement I was hoping for, but after the way I’ve behaved, I don’t blame her. I’ve been trying to be the guy she needs me to be—hell, the guy I _want_ to be—since our blow out more than a week ago. Other than one night when I was in a meeting that ran past midnight, she and I have been home by seven every evening, making dinner, spending time together, and going through last minute wedding details. Unless I’m in the Sit Room or something has come up with the President, I’ve been going to our meetings with the wedding planner. It was a shock to realize just how little was left for us to deal with because most of those meetings have been to cover final details and to check in with us to make sure we have all the things we need for our day. I’ve been amazed at how much work Donna’s put in for this in such a short amount of time, and I feel like the world’s biggest ass for not helping with anything the last couple of months. It’s _our_ wedding and I’ve left it all to her. It would have been one thing if she’d desperately wanted to be the one to plan everything, and even then I should still throw her my support, but this was something we were supposed to do together, and I almost ruined it.

It actually breaks my heart to think that she’s not excited about her own wedding, that the thought of marrying me this Saturday fills her with trepidation. I did this to her. I let my own insecurities and fears take over and instead of talking to my future wife, I nearly let my relationship with Donna end. So, no; I don’t really blame her for being insecure about this and, well, me.

Still, I have to keep trying. I owe her that much. “Are you nervous?” I ask.

“A little,” she answers with a shrug.

My stomach twists a little, but if I can get her to talk about this…“How come?”

“It’s a big commitment, Josh.”

“I know that. I like to think I’ve been pretty committed to you for a while now.”

“You have. Of course you have. It’s not that…”

“Then what? We’ve been together for a couple of years, and we’ve known each other even longer. Our lives are meshed.” I know that, if nothing else, there can be no doubt of my overall commitment to this woman. The last month or so aside, my entire world has revolved around her for two years.

She sits up, effectively dislodging my hand, and scoots to the other end of the couch. Her wide, expressive eyes are so sad, so lost. “It’s a big legal commitment.”

I snort a little, unable to help myself. “You make it sound so appealing.”

She shrugs and looks away, her eyes focusing somewhere beyond the TV in front of us. “This is more than us living together or sharing a checking account. It’d be messy but most of what we have together could be undone with minimal interference. Marriage is different; it’s a legally binding contract that can take years and thousands of dollars and lawyers to undo.”

“I’m not gonna want to undo it,” I promise, scooting over to her a little.

She keeps her face turned from me but at least she doesn’t get up and move. “It’s not something we should take lightly.”

“I’m not taking it lightly.”

“It’s a big deal.”

“Donna, I know. Why are you bringing this up now? We both know what goes into marriage. We’ve been talking about this for a long time.”

“I’m just saying.”

“What are you saying?” My insides turn to ice, my heart almost stopping.

“Just that…it’s easier to get out of it now than to change your mind in a month. There’s no paperwork involved now. I mean, the only thing we’d lose right now are some deposits and things”

“I don’t want to change my mind!” I exclaim, moving closer to her.

She finally looks over at me, her eyes bright and shiny, and I curse myself for making her cry yet again. “I guess it’s just jitters,” she all but whispers, standing up and moving awkwardly over to the bookcase where she pretends to look for something to read.

“This is more than jitters,” I answer, slowly following her over to the books. I make sure I stand so she can see me out of her peripheral vision. “You still aren’t sure about me, are you?”

She keeps her eyes focused on the books but her hands clasp without her seeming to notice, her fingers twisting her engagement ring. “Everyone gets nervous before their wedding.”

I let out a sigh and rub my temples. All I want to do is fix this. I truly thought we were well on our way. I thought I was doing what I needed to do to make this better. Clearly, I’ve been missing something. Even though I’ve done nothing but spend all of my available time with Donna, it seems I’m still not paying enough attention. “Talk to me,” I beg, gently grabbing her forearms and turning her toward me. “We’re getting married in a few days. If you have doubts, please tell me.”

She still won’t look me in the eye, opting instead to keep her eyes trained on my feet. “I don’t doubt that I want to marry you. I’ve wanted to marry you for a long time. It’s just…it’s a big deal.”

“I _know_.”

“I don’t want you to question that.”

“I don’t want you to question my commitment to you, either. I _want_ to do this. I can’t _wait_ to do this.”

“Josh…”

“I’ve really screwed everything up, haven’t I? Donna, you have to know that I never doubted that I wanted us to get married and to spend the rest of my life with you. I only doubted my ability to not fuck everything up. Unfortunately, it seems I was right on the money. If you can’t trust me, do you really want to marry me? We can still postpone it or…call it off completely if that’s what you want.”

She finally looks at me, tears spilling down her pale cheeks. “I don’t want to be without you.”

“But if you can’t trust me, why should you marry me? What kind of life is that?”

“I feel like I’m overreacting.” She sniffles and I reach out, wiping at her tears with my thumb.

“I treated you horribly,” I whisper, cupping her cheek in the hope that she won’t turn away again. She looks so small right now, so frail. Her shoulders are slumped, her entire body seems to be turned in on itself. I feel like I’m towering over her right now and considering we usually see almost eye-to-eye, the difference in her posture is alarming. “You’re in no way overreacting. I don’t blame you for being nervous about me. I just don’t know what else I can do at this point. I can grovel, but all the apologizing and begging in the world won’t help if your heart isn’t sure. I definitely don’t want you to marry me because it feels easier than the alternative but…you’ve got to know how much I love you. I’m in this for keeps. You’re my soul mate and if me saying that doesn’t prove what you mean to me…well, I’m happy to make more over-the-top declarations. I’ve loved you for such a long time and if I wasn’t the world’s biggest idiot, I would have married you five years ago.”

She blinks at me in surprise. “Five years?”

“Well, six, at least. I should have proposed to you the moment President Bartlet was elected the second time. No one would have cared and I doubt they would have been surprised.”

New tears spill down her cheeks, but for the first time all evening, there’s something hopeful in her expression. “You wanted to marry me then?”

“Donna, I think I’ve wanted to marry you for as long as I’ve known you. If I was half as smart as I want to believe, I would have tried to snap you up instead of sabotaging your dates all those years.”

“You were sabotaging my dates? Seriously?”

“How could you not know that? I never wanted you going out with those losers. Yes, I work better with you around but if you’d been anyone else, I certainly could have spared you for a few hours or even let you have a full evening off.”

“I just thought…I thought my personal life was so incidental to you…I thought you didn’t care.”

“Honey, I cared way too much about your personal life. Keeping guys away from you was one of my top priorities. You have to know this. We’ve talked about this.”

“You’ve told me that you hated me going out with other men, but you never told me you actually sabotaged my dates.”

“Whenever possible,” I answer proudly. “It was sick and twisted, but if I could find a reason to scare the guy off, I’d do it. It wasn’t just about me keeping you close at work. I was terrible and inappropriate on a whole different level.”

She actually laughs at that, thawing the ice in my veins just a little. “I thought you didn’t want me to split my attention.”

“Nope; I just didn’t want to see you going out with another guy. It killed me.”

“Then why did you help set me up with Jack Reese?”

“Because you asked me to,” I tell her simply. “You’d never asked me to do that before—not really, anyway, not like that—so I knew you must have really wanted to get to know him.”

“Yeah, but you could have sabotaged that, too, right?”

“I just wanted you to be happy, and I hadn’t seen you smile like that for a long time.”

“Sure, but—”

“I was in love with you. I may not have been able to say it or admit it, but I love you and all I wanted was your happiness. If that meant setting you up with Jack, I did it. It killed me but I did it.”

“Josh…”

“And I still should have married you that night. Or, you know, asked. For sure I should have during the inauguration. After that creep let you take the fall for him…well, I wanted you to be with someone better than that. I thought I could be that guy. I should have asked. Right there, in front of your apartment in the snow. Donna…”

“I would have said yes,” she breathes, almost knocking the wind out of me.

“You would have?”

“Absolutely. I knew I love you then. If you had asked me that night, it wouldn’t have mattered that I’d just broken up with Jack. I wouldn’t have been on the rebound. I would have said yes with all those guys watching us.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Maybe so…but you’re my idiot. Forever.”

I feel a kernel of hope take root in my chest. “Forever?”

“Yes,” she answers, straightening her spine, her entire demeanor changing.

“So, what does that mean?”

“It means that on Saturday I’ll be walking down an aisle to marry a man I’ve loved most of my adult life.”

“I’ll be there. You’ll never have to doubt me again, I swear. I promise I’m going to be better about talking to you. Even if I can’t tell you what’s going on, I’ll tell you that _something_ is going on. If I get scared again, I’ll tell you. I promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Donna, I can’t wait to be your husband. I don’t ever want you to be sorry that you married me.”

“I could only be sorry if we were apart. We’re going to get through this. Remember—you’re my idiot. For better or for worse. We’ll figure this out.”

Tears prickle the corners of my eyes and I nod vigorously. “For better or for worse. Donna…my life is so much better with you in it. No matter how it seems, I’ve never forgotten that. You’re why I get up in the morning. You’re why I want to make the world a better place. You make me want to be a better man.”

She sniffles and tilts her head, leaning into my hand that’s still cupping her cheek. “You are a _good man_ , Josh,” she tells me softly. “You’re the best man. I love you so much it makes me dizzy, and I want to be your wife. I want to get married and I don’t want to wait any longer. If we could find a judge to do it right now, I’d be okay with that.”

I feel my pulse pick up out of excitement, and for a few long minutes I try to figure out who we could wake up that would perform the ceremony for us before I reconsider. “I love that idea, but let’s wait until Saturday. I care less about the money than that we deserve a celebration. I like the idea that it could be just for us, but kind of like even more the idea of all of our friends and family bearing witness to it. However, if you really want to get married right now, I’ll make it happen.”

Fresh tears spill down her cheeks but for the first time in weeks she gives me her brilliant, megawatt smile. “You really would, wouldn’t you?”

“I really would. I promise you I will do anything to make you happy.”

She steps into me suddenly, her hand going to the back of my neck as she pulls me to her. She kisses me deeply, thoroughly, and I’m so stunned for a few moments that I almost miss it. I grab onto her waist and pull her close. We’ve done a little bit of this in the last week, though it’s been closer to chaste than anything else, and mostly limited to “good morning” and “good night.” Sex hasn’t been on the table and I’m okay with that. I absolutely want her to take the lead with this and when she’s ready, I’m ready. Her comfort is the most important thing.

She ducks out of my arms suddenly, leaving me stunned as she goes back over to the couch. She grabs the remote and turns off the TV, walking back over to me shyly. Still, she doesn’t hesitate as she takes my hand and leads me down the hall to our bedroom. Once we’re inside she pushes the door shut and turns off the overhead light, leaving just our bedside lamps. My breath catches in my throat as she grabs the bottom of my t-shirt and pushes it over my head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Here be dragons. This is the steamy chapter. I’m going to try to leave the rating as is so it can still be found but I’ll change it if it’s an issue for anyone. There should be another chapter after this that’s family friendly*

“Donna…” I whisper as I help her with the rest of it, feeling oddly exposed in just my jeans. My mouth dries out completely when she pulls off her own shirt, reminding me that she very rarely wears a bra while at home. “Are you sure?” I manage to choke out as my body responds to her painfully.

She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she steps closer and takes my hand, laying it gently over her breast. My knees turn to jell-o. It’s been a really long time since we last did this. Despite the time, her body is familiar to me. I know her curves and how she fits into my hand. I know everything about what she likes and dislikes and it makes our sex life anything but boring. It makes it richer, more fulfilling.

She steps into me again, pressing her lips to mine. I release her breast for just a moment as I push at her yoga pants until they slide past her hips. She shimmies a little to work them down her legs and I bend my knees, wrapping my lips around her nipple. She gasps softly and threads her hand through my hair. I pull at her gently, not wanting to come on too strong. I switch to her other breast, showing that nipple the same treatment, and my hand comes up of its own volition to gently massage the one I just left. I only allow myself to stay there a couple of minutes before I kiss my way up her chest, suckling at her neck for a few moments. I come up for air, cupping her face in my hands.

“Are you sure?” I ask again. “I can wait as long as you need me to.”

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” she answers, and I pull her to me for another kiss. Her hands slide down my chest until she gets to the fly of my jeans, struggling to pop open the button. My hands join hers, playfully tussling with her until we manage to push my pants down my legs, too.

I kick the jeans away from me, waiting for her to make the next move. She sighs and puts her hands on my hips, stepping close to me again. I breathe in sharply at the contact; I’m already painfully aroused. Her chest is heaving, and if I’m not mistaken, her entire body is shaking just a little. I wrap my arms around her, leaning in to kiss her again. Even if we just do this all night, I’ll be ecstatic.

I yelp and jump a few seconds later when her cool hand wraps around my erection, sending electric jolts through my entire body. She snickers—not that I blame her—and gently pumps her hand. My eyes roll back in my head. She uses her free hand to shove my boxers down my legs and I drag myself out of my stupor. I grab her wrist and remove her hand before I explode, guiding her toward the bed. She sits down without hesitation, scooting back against the headboard. I kneel on the bed in front of her, hooking my fingers under the edge of her panties. She lifts her hips to help me pull them down, watching with what looks like amusement as I toss them over my shoulder.

Very carefully, I lower myself on top of her, both of us shifting until she’s flat on her back. Neither of us says anything, though we watch each other for a few long moments. I try to re-acclimate myself to this feeling, with the way her body lines up perfectly against mine, how soft she is, how fragile and strong she is, all of it. I reach up and stroke the backs of my fingers against her cheekbone then move over to trail my fingers through her hair. She shifts a little, moving so her thighs bracket mine, and I have to close my eyes for a minute. I drop my head until it’s buried in the crook of her neck. This is how we really fit together. It’s such a perfect feeling that I’d swear we were actually made for each other.

Her fingers stroke my back, running between my shoulder blades gently. I lift my head and press my lips to hers, kissing her until we’re breathless. I come up for air for a few seconds before I dive back in, kissing her again. She’s trusting me with this part of her again and I don’t want her to regret it for a second.

Her hips undulate against mine, making me shudder from head to toe. I want nothing more than to bury myself inside of her and just get lost but…this is too important to rush. With that, I lift my head again, framing her face with my hands. She gazes at me in return, and I can see lot of things in her eyes. I don’t think she realizes how expressive her eyes are. I can see love, and I can see passion and lust, but I can also see that she’s nervous, and there’s still some sadness underneath it all. I hate myself for it. I never want to be the one to put that look in her eyes again. “I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you,” she answers, her lips curving up in the slightest of smiles.

I give her another kiss, forcing myself to keep it simple, before I move down to her neck. I take great care to make sure I don’t leave any marks on her skin—I’m sure the last thing she’ll want to deal with on our wedding day is trying cover up a bunch of hickies. I only spend a few minutes exploring her neck before I kiss my way down to her chest. I move my tongue over one nipple before moving to the other, looking up at her as I go. Her eyes are hooded, her cheeks flushed, and she’s starting to bite her lip. I smile in return, finally taking the entire nipple into my mouth, tugging at it the way I know she likes. She whimpers a little, but when I glance up at her, her eyes have fallen shut. I take that as a good sign. I switch breasts, devouring her as best I can. I make sure to cup her other breast, fondling it gently so it doesn’t feel neglected.

Honestly, I could stay here for hours. She has fantastic breasts and she likes when I pay attention to them. Since I haven’t been doing my job with that lately, I feel like I should make up for lost time.

Though…there are other areas I’ve been neglecting as well.

I finally move on, kissing my way to her stomach, pressing my lips to her hipbones, making note of just how much weight she’s lost lately. These bones have never been quite so prominent, and I know I’m the reason she hasn’t had an appetite lately. I sigh as I caress her, disappointed in myself again. The damage I’ve done to this poor woman is unacceptable. I can’t believe she’s willing to be here with me right now. It’s a testament to her strength and commitment to me that she’s still willing to consider forever with me.

She’s more than I deserve.

I shift myself further down her body, kissing the top of her thigh before moving it so her leg is draped over my shoulder. She puts her hand on my cheek, making me look at her. “Josh,” she says softly, her voice deep and scratchy with desire. “You don’t have to.”

I turn my head, kissing her inner thigh. “I want to.”

“I want this to be about us.”

“It is,” I answer, turning to kiss her other thigh. “But I want it to be about you, too. You deserve this much.” I kiss her hip, scraping my teeth across her skin. “I want to show you how much I love you.” I kiss her thigh again. “I don’t want there to be any doubt.” Her other thigh. “I want to make you feel good.” I look up, resting my chin low on her pelvis. “But I won’t if you don’t want me to. Your call.” I maneuver one of my hands until it’s between us, running my fingers over her carefully. She shudders a little and I’m almost done in. She feels so amazing, and it’s almost unbelievable to me that she’s actually turned on.

She swallows heavily, watching me for a few long moments before nodding her head just a little. I move her other leg so it’s also draped over my shoulder and lower my face to her slowly. I’m hit first by a wave of _Donna_. I know this is one of the spots where her pheromones seem to be the strongest, but it’s been a really long time since I’ve been down here and it is intense. I take a few deep breaths, trying to re-center myself and also to take in as much of her as possible. Finally, I let out a sigh and gently run my tongue over her.

She whimpers again, her head falling back against the pillows. Her back arches against my touch and her fingers dig into the comforter beneath her. What I really want to do is bury my face between her legs and go at her relentlessly until she’s had five or six orgasms and is nothing but a quivering mass of limbs, but I know I need to exercise self-control. This isn’t the moment for that. Sure, if I could make it happen she’d probably enjoy herself, but this is for us to reconnect and rediscover. I should have time for all my other fantasies later. Still, it takes no small amount of control to run just the tip of my tongue over her again.

She tastes _incredible._

I wrap my arms under her thighs and pull her closer to me. I move my mouth over her slowly, trying not to put too much pressure on anything just yet. I do want to explore her for a while—for as long as she’ll let me tonight.

I try to keep my eyes on her as I work, taking in the way her hips undulate against my face, the way her stomach quivers when I hit the right spot. I watch her back arch off the bed every time I do something she likes, and I watch her tug at her own nipples in response to my touch. I watch her mouth fall open as she breathes heavily, her forehead furrowing in that wonderful, mysterious way that means she’s getting close orgasm and isn’t sure just how soon it’s going to happen.

I move my mouth against her faster, my tongue lapping at her in quick, firm strokes, and her thighs clench around my head for a few seconds. “Ohhhh,” she groans, pushing against me, moving her hips faster to increase the friction.

I’m more than happy to oblige. My tongue flicks against her bundle of nerves. Her hand grabs mine suddenly and I look up, but she seems to have done it without noticing. I move even faster, sucking her into my mouth when my tongue isn’t in action. My free hand slides across her body, caressing every part of her I can reach. Her skin is so soft, with just the faintest hint of sweat beginning to form.

Her other hand flies out suddenly, grabbing the back of my head and holding me in the place. Her head snaps up, her eyes unfocused. “Right there right there right there,” she breathes, pushing against me a few more times before her entire body goes taught. I continue to move my tongue, watching as she turns pink, holding her breath, her mouth open, her eyes screwed shut. I’m just about to get concerned when she lets out a low, keening wail, her hips thrusting wildly against me. I can’t help but smile. I really do love watching her come. Nothing makes me feel more invincible.

A smile forms on her face as she moves, her breathing still labored. That smile at the end of an orgasm can be better than almost anything else. It means she’s happy, satisfied, and that she can’t help but grin at the sensations. It’s good for my ego, but it also lets me know the mission has been successful, so to speak.

I don’t stop moving my tongue, though. I change directions a little, hoping to either prolong or give her new sensations; I know she’ll tell me when it’s too much. The expression on her face changes again, the furrowed look coming back, and I feel my eyebrows lift in surprise—she’s going to have another one?

Excellent.

I move my entire face against her, suddenly desperate to give her more. I can’t do this all night if she wants me to. I _will_ do this all night if she wants me to.

Her fingers clench in my hair, flexing in time with my tongue. I readjust our joined hands so that our fingers are linked and she immediately squeezes me, using our hands to brace herself as she thrusts.

I look up at her again, watching her face, trying to make sure she’s okay, that what I’m doing works for her. She’s biting her lip right now, biting it so hard it looks like she’s going to draw blood. I feel her ankles cross behind my back, pulling me to her. Her body twists to the side suddenly, almost dislodging me, and she starts panting, thrusting her hips in sharp little motions.

Her fingers fist in my hair, yanking it hard enough to make me wince a little. The sound of her moaning fills the room. She flies into a seated position for a few seconds, her thighs squeezing me almost painfully before she drops back to the bed, her body undulating in frantic waves as she comes. I’m overcome with a wave a love for this woman, marveling over the fact that after everything, I’m here right now. She’s so beautiful, and I get to spend the rest of my life with her.

Her leg muscles relax, falling so that her feet are on either side of my head, and I finally ease back on the pressure, slowing my motions. I don’t want to over stimulate her and have it become painful, but I’m not quite ready to leave where I am yet.

Her hand finally unclenches, releasing my hair, and she reaches up to push her own hair off of her face, sighing even as her chest heaves. Her skin is still flushed, all of it glowing with a sheen of sweat. She looks radiant. Finally, she pushes at my forehead a little and I take the hint, taking a few last passes at her before I come up for air. I scrape my teeth against her inner thigh, running my tongue over her salty skin, and she laughs softly. I smile in response, beginning the slow process of kissing my way up her body. I nibble at the skin beneath her bellybutton for a few moments, moving up to her ribcage. When I get to her sternum, I can feel her heart thumping beneath my lips. I brush the undersides of her breasts with my mouth but she tugs at my shoulders before I get too distracted by her nipples again.

She grabs my cheeks and pulls my face to hers, kissing me thoroughly. Her tongue rubs against mine slowly, sending shivers down my spine. I let my body rest on top of hers for a few moments before I slide off to the side, pulling her body close. She nestles into me, her legs and feet rubbing against mine.

“How’re you feeling?” I whisper against her lips. I kiss her for a few more moments as she smiles, moving to press my lips to her chin, her cheeks, her forehead, the tip of her nose.

“Good,” she whispers. “Pretty good.” Her hand trails down my chest and stomach, her fingers stopping just before my erection. It still drives me wild. “How are you?”

“I’m perfect,” I answer honestly. I pull back a bit so I can see all of her face, cupping her cheek. Her eyes look a bit clearer now, which I find reassuring. She runs the backs of her fingers over my ribs, moving to my back. She shifts a little, draping her leg over my hip. I shudder at the contact, her heat almost overwhelming me. “Donna…are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

I let out a ragged breath, my eyes falling shut for a few moments as she pushes against me a little. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“Josh…you’ve _never_ pressured me into having sex. Why would this be any different?”

“Because it’s been a long time, and a lot has happened in the last week, and our emotions are high, and I don’t want you to regret this if you’re not completely sure about…me.”

She sighs, burying her face in my neck. She stays that way for a long time, and if it wasn’t for the feel of her fingers stroking up and down my spine, I’d think she’d fallen asleep.

“Joshua Lyman, I want you to listen to me,” she finally says, her voice muffled until she lifts her head. “I love you with my whole heart and soul. I wouldn’t be marrying you this weekend if I wasn’t completely sure about you. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know that you won’t freak out again at some point. I don’t know anything except that my heart is yours. Forever. What you do with it is up to you. All I can do is trust you not to break it.”

I look at her for a long time, amazed. Being entrusted with someone’s heart is such a huge responsibility and with anyone else, I wouldn’t have been up for the challenge. I can’t promise her that I won’t do something stupid again, but I can promise her that I will always, _always_ love her. She’s beautiful and brilliant and funny and could have any guy she wants, and she wants me. All I have to do is not be stupid. Easier said than done, probably, but as long as I don’t do something awful again like neglect her and make her think I’m leaving her, it shouldn’t be a problem.

Shifting my weight, I move us until she’s on her back again and drape myself over her—not completely on top of her, but enough so that our limbs are fairly twined—and kiss her. I kiss her for a long time. My hands slide gently over her body, trying to touch as much of her skin as possible. Her arms tighten around me, trying to pull me completely on top of her. I let her, but I push myself up onto my palms, keeping our bodies from pressing together.

“Is this way good for you?” I whisper, breathing heavily. “We could change. I mean, you can be on top if you want.”

“This is good,” she answers, pulling my shoulders to get me close again.

I almost let myself fall into her before I pull away again, hopping off the bed. “Hang on.”

“Josh,” she says, sounding exasperated.

“Hang on,” I repeat. I grab the edge of blankets beneath her and pull gently, working until I dislodge them from under her body. She gives me a curious look as I settle on top of her once more, covering us over a little. “It’s the middle of winter and I know you’ll be cold as soon as we’re done.”

She sucks in a breath, her eyes shiny, and I panic, wondering if I said or did the wrong thing. She just reaches up, though, stroking her thumbs across my cheeks before pulling me back for a kiss. I finally let myself relax on top of her, our bodies molding to one another. My erection, which had deflated a bit in the interim, pushes against her, creating friction, and it’s enough to completely revive me. The blood moves south so fast it makes me lightheaded for a few moments. Donna inhales sharply, unable to miss it or the way my erection presses against her insistently. I shift until I can get a hand between us, stroking her softly. Her hips lift a little, pushing closer to my touch. Very carefully, I push a finger into her, happy and somewhat relieved to find her still wet. I push another finger into her and stroke slowly, watching her face. Her eyes fall shut and she lets out a sigh, her body responding to my touch.

When she opens her eyes, she gives me a shaky smile and pushes at my arm. I withdraw my hand slowly, trying to savor the way she feels. The moment is short-lived, however, when she wraps her hand around my erection. My eyes slam shut and I take deep breaths, trying to make sure I don’t come instantly. She strokes me gently, her fingers somehow delicate and strong. I shift again, moving so I’m back on top of her. Her range of motion is shorter but she keeps stroking me, the sensations making my head spin. Nothing can compare to the way she feels; no other woman I’ve been with does what she does to me. No simple touch from another has ever sent me reeling the way hers does. It’s one of many reasons I know I’m supposed to be with her. The thought of breaking her heart makes me want to die, and I know that I have to keep my head out of my ass with her. I can’t put her through something like this again. I never should have done it to begin with. I want to spend eternity with her and I need to make sure she never regrets a moment of it.

She moves her hand, going to hold my side, and pushes her hips against mine just a little, our bodies sliding against each other sensuously.

“Are you ready?” I ask softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She nods, shifting until she can place a kiss on my neck. “Yes.”

I shift again, pulling back to position myself at her entrance and guide myself in. I let out a shuddering breath as I feel her surround me. My eyes fall shut and I drop my head to her shoulder. I tighten my arms around her, breathing deeply as I slowly sink into her. She makes a noise and hisses, making my head jerk up. Her eyes are screwed shut, her lips pulled tight in a grimace, and her body is tense beneath mine.

“Oh, God!” I exclaim, immediately stilling myself. I push myself up onto my elbows, trying to give her some space. “I’m hurting you, aren’t I?”

“I’m okay,” she whispers, keeping her eyes shut.

“Donna! I don’t want to hurt you!”

“I’ll be okay,” she insists, tightening her hold on me as I try to move away.

“This isn’t supposed to hurt,” I whisper, feeling tears prickle the corner of my eyes. I may be a fairly common, grotesque guy that likes to brag about the size of his equipment, even to the woman who has extensive knowledge of it, but I have no illusions that I’m hung like some porn star. As far as I know, the only time sex has been anything even remotely resembling painful for Donna, at least when she’s been with me, was the first couple of times and she told me that was because it’d been a while since her previous encounters. I know enough about women and sex to know that if it’s hurting her, something is extraordinarily wrong.

She opens her eyes, trying to give me a smile. “Josh…”

“No. I’m not doing this if it’s going to hurt you.”

“Just go slow,” she whispers. She moves her hand to the back of my neck, running her fingers through the hair there. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I answer.

Her hand moves, cupping my cheek. “You won’t. You aren’t. Just go slow, I’ll be all right.”

I open my mouth to protest but she clenches herself around me, making me groan. “Donna…”

“I _do_ want to do this. I just needed a minute.” Sure enough, I can feel her body relaxing beneath mine. Her thighs fall open a bit more, draping her feet over the backs of my thighs. “Go slow anyway,” she adds in a whisper, pushing my hair off my forehead.

I nod and lean forward tentatively, kissing her gently. I lower myself down to her again until our bodies nearly meld into one. Her arms wrap around me loosely and she tilts her head, deepening the kiss. I’m still afraid to move my hips, though. I don’t ever want to see her make that face again, especially not during sex.

She doesn’t seem to mind the kissing, though, and hasn’t indicated she wants more. I can still feel her muscles unknotting as she gets more comfortable, and I suddenly sink into her completely. She gasps again and I look up, ready to stop if she looks like she’s the least bit unhappy but…she looks okay. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are open and clear, and when she notices me watching her, the corner of her mouth quirks up just a little.

So, I take a chance and move. I take it very, very slowly, pulling back until I’m almost completely out of her and sinking back in with just as much care. She lets out a long breath, readjusting her legs around me, so I do it again. I lean down to kiss her, moving mouth against hers slowly as I try to mimic what my hips are doing. Finally, though, I come up for air, sliding my arms under her, my hands cradling her head, and watch her. She smiles a little, her body moving slowly against mine.

 _I’m home._ It’s such an insane concept to feel as if you belong within someone else’s body, but it’s the only way to describe it. Maybe it’s not that I feel like we should be having sex constantly and I should be inside of her that way, but…in a strange, metaphorical sense. I’m in her and she’s in me. We’re part of each other. We always have been.

And suddenly, we fall into our rhythm. I still take it slow—because I do want to savor this—but we fall in sync with each other. We move together and against each other and fit together the way we’re supposed to. My heart actually aches with the enormity of it.

This isn’t about sex, not right now. This is about reconnecting. This is about finding each other again. This is about us spending the rest of our lives together.

This is about me and the love of my life. This is about actually making love.

Donna doesn’t say much. Granted, she’s not necessarily chatty during sex, but she’s doing a lot of watching. She’s breathing heavy, sometimes her eyes roll back in her head, but mostly, she just watches me. It would be unnerving if I could stop staring at her. I want to see her. I want her to see me. I want her to know that I have no reservations, and that I’m in this for keeps.

Her eyes fill with tears and I falter for a few moments. The tears roll down the sides of her face but she smiles at me. I stop anyway. “Everything all right?”

She nods even though the tears keep coming. “More.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I readjust my arms until I can wrap them under her legs, hitching them up until they’re over my upper arms. She gasps as the angle changes, and I can’t help but shudder from head to toe. Once I get my bearings, I start moving within her again, a little faster this time, and she lets out a quiet moan. Her hands grab onto my elbows and squeeze, her hips thrusting up to meet mine. There’s no hesitation or resistance on her part. I prop myself up on my hands, changing the angle again, and we both gasp at the sensation.

“Better?” I ask, grunting with every thrust.

“Mmmmm,” she answers, biting her lip.

I lean down to kiss her, pressing our bodies together again. I press my forehead to hers as we move. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin just a little. “You feel so good,” I pant.

“You do,” she answers just as breathlessly.

I stop again, breathing heavily against her face, a little worried when I see that tears are still escaping her eyes. I kiss her again, trying to let her know how much I love her. I carefully move her legs and sit up on my knees, bringing her with me. She looks a little surprised but doesn’t question it, adjusting herself around me. I lean in and kiss her neck, trying my best to be gentle. I make my way down her chest and she arches her back for me, giving me easier access to her breasts. I lick my lips and dive in, suckling on one side before I move to the other, then back again. She wraps her legs around my waist and starts rocking, effectively distracting me from her nipples. I grab a hold of her hips, moving my body to meet hers. Her head falls back and she wraps one arm around my shoulders, her other hand digging into my bicep.

I start to move in earnest. She moves faster. Her head comes up and she smiles at me just before her mouth drops open. I reach one hand in between us, making sure to keep the rhythm, and rub at her with my thumb. Her entire body jerks, moving against me in sharp motions for a few seconds. “Ohhhhhhhh,” she moans, her fingers tightening against me. I move my fingers faster for a few moments before I grab her hips again and move. Every time she thrusts down on me, she rocks her hips, moving them in a circle, clenching herself around me.

My head starts to spin. I hear a faint ringing in my ears. I realize in that moment that an orgasm isn’t far off for me but...I want her to get there first. Maybe she won’t even have one, though. She’s already had two tonight and I know sex for a woman, particularly for Donna, is at least ninety percent in her head so if she’s not in the right mind space for it, it won’t happen. I know we have a good track record for this, but tonight is very different than most of our other encounters.

She whimpers, drawing my attention. I push into her faster, guiding her hips into me. She tightens her legs around me and starts to grind her pelvis against mine. I swear I see stars. “Oh, shit,” I groan, burying my face in her neck for a few seconds. Her breathing is heavy in my ear. I want to talk to her, I want to ask her how she’s doing and see if she’s close, but I’ve lost my words.

I lift my head and find her lips, kissing her as hard as I can. Her hand comes to the back of my neck, holding me in place. We push against each other frantically.

“Josh,” she whispers. “ _Josh! Oh, God!_ ”

“Are you…are…ughhhh,” I manage to choke out, unable to string together anything that makes sense.

“Mmmmmm,” she answers, her head falling back again. I move my hand between us again, rubbing at her frantically, and her head snaps up, her eyes wide, and time freezes for a few long seconds. Our eyes connect, and I swear something snaps back into place. Her fingernails dig into my skin and everything goes back to normal, her body moving unevenly as she comes, my fingers pushing against her to enhance the sensations. She moans softly, burying her face in my neck as she rides me.

I’m so close right now. It’s taking everything I have to hold off right now. I just want to make sure she’s good. “I love you,” I whisper into her ear, and she tightens her grip on me, whimpering, her hips still pushing against mine.

She lifts her head, sucking one of my earlobes into her mouth. “I love you, too,” she answers, clenching her inner muscles around me, and I explode. I hold onto her hips with both hands, pounding into her unevenly. The edge of my vision goes dark. If I couldn’t feel her wrapped around me, I’d pass out. I let out a shout—I might have said her name, I might have thanked a god I’m not sure I believe in, or I might have spoken absolute gibberish. It doesn’t matter, and I couldn’t control it right now if I wanted to.

She grabs my face suddenly, kissing me senseless as I try to return to this plane of existence. I never want to leave this moment we’re in. Donna’s body is so warm around mine. I tighten my hold on her, the last swell of an orgasm rushing through me before I go limp. I slump forward, actually tilting us toward the bed. She lets out a surprised noise as we hit the mattress, our limbs tangling together as we try to stay as close as possible.

I kiss her for a few long moments before I have to breathe, actually gasping for air. We shift a little, I feel myself slip out of her body, and I tuck her head under my chin so I can hold her.

“I missed this,” I tell her, stroking the sweaty skin of her back, and I can feel her nod her head a little.

“Me, too,” she answers softly, tightening her arms around my middle.

I could easily fall asleep right now—God knows we’re both exhausted and the next few days aren’t going to be any shorter—but I don’t want to miss a moment of this with her. I want to be awake if she wants to talk. I want to be aware that I’m holding her. I just want to be with her.

I’m so busy basking in the afterglow that it takes me far too long to realize that Donna’s shaking. “Hey,” I say, tickling her back a little. “You all right?”

She nods but I hear a sniffle so I pull back from her in alarm, horrified to see that she’s crying again.

“Oh, my God! Donna! Seriously, are you okay?”

She nods again, trying to take a deep breath, but all that comes out is a sob. “I’m sorry!” she exclaims, burying her face against my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I answer, feeling my heart start to race again, though for significantly less pleasant reasons. “What happened? Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?” She lets out another sob but tightens her hold on me, so I don’t know what to think. “Honey…please. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

It’s some time before she can answer. She cries against my chest—horrible, heartbreaking sobs, sobs that make want to crush whomever or whatever made her cry like that. Which means I really want to crush myself.

“So much has happened,” she finally mumbles, keeping her face close to my neck. “These last couple of months have been…I thought I’d lost you! My heart was breaking. You wouldn’t look at me, you wouldn’t talk to me, you didn’t even come home at night. I was so lost and so scared and I thought I was going to have to start my life over again and it was overwhelming. It’s been so hard, and I’ve been so angry at you but…I just love you so much. It doesn’t matter how mad you make me, I love you with my entire heart and soul. Making love to you tonight was just…overwhelming. I have a lot of feelings right now and I don’t know where to put them.”

“Donna…” I choke out, feeling a sob bubble in my chest.

“You’re still the only thing I’ve ever been sure of, Josh. The whole world can turn upside down, left could become right, it doesn’t matter, and I’ll still be sure of you and what I feel for you. I know I’m a wreck right now but I’ve been holding onto so much emotion for so long that it has nowhere to go but out, but I’m more certain than ever that I want to marry you. There’s no doubt in my mind that we’re supposed to be together forever.”

“I love you so much,” I whisper, the words coming out watery. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her back to me, and we cry. We cry for a long time. I don’t remember ever crying this much in my entire life, and maybe that’s why there’s so much now. Donna’s the only one who’s seen me like this, and who will probably ever see me like this, because she’s the only one I trust with this part of me. Just like she’s not much of a crier in everyday life, she has no trouble letting go in front of me.

It’s cathartic. I didn’t realize how much I needed the release until this moment.

We hold each other until our sobs die off, soft sniffles filling the air. We hold each other when our sniffles have petered away and there’s nothing left but us. Her body slowly relaxes and we’re eventually able to lie in bed together the way we normally would after sex.

I kiss her forehead, letting my lips linger on her cool skin. “What’re you thinking about right now?”

She starts a little, chuckling to herself—for whatever reason, she’s always amused when I want to know what she’s thinking, especially after sex. I just like to talk to her, I like to hear her voice, and it’s become a habit of ours to try not to just drift off to sleep after we make love, but to take time to check in with each other. “I’m thinking about how much I don’t want to get up to pee even though I know I don’t want a UTI on my wedding day.” I chuckle in response and she tilts her head up so she can see me. “Being a girl is the worst.”

“Probably,” I answer, “but I’m really glad that you’re a girl.”

A smile dances across her lips, making my heart feel a bit lighter. “I’m also thinking about how emotionally unprepared I am for our parents to get here the day after tomorrow, and that if we want to have sex again before the wedding, tomorrow morning or tomorrow night are probably our last chance.”

“But our parents aren’t even staying with us,” I answer, confused.

“Do you really think we’ll have a moment’s peace once they arrive? The fact that I managed to convince any of them to wait until the Wednesday before our wedding to show up is a minor miracle, and the exchange will be that they will want to be around us constantly. _Your_ mom’s going to be emotional because her baby boy is finally getting married, and _my_ parents will be emotional because their spinster daughter will no longer be in danger of becoming the crazy cat lady.”

I can’t help it—I burst out laughing. “I don’t think you were ever in danger of becoming a cat lady.”

“It was questionable for a few years, Josh. Even though those cats belonged to my roommate, my mother was always concerned that a glaring was in my future.”

I turn on my side and prop myself up on my elbow so I can see her. “First of all, aren’t both of your parents cat people? And second of all…what the hell is a glaring?”

“It’s a group of cats,” she answers, her eyebrows lifting at me as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world, and I suppose it is, to someone with a mind like Donna’s. “My parents have no problem with cat owning in general, just when it comes to their only daughter and the possibility that cats may be the only thing to keep her company in her advancing age.”

I snicker again, draping my hand over her hip as she props herself up, too. “Okay, so you’re right—our parents will be here and emotional—”

“That’s not to mention my brothers and their families, my grandparents, our friends, and all those dignitaries we got roped into inviting. Even if we don’t get to all of them before the wedding, we’ll have to deal with enough of them, and we’ll be stretched pretty thin. That doesn’t even include the fact that we have to work at some point in there, too. Seriously, our lives are about to become one hell of a shit show.”

“But at the end of it, we get to be married,” I remind her, giving her hip a squeeze.

“Yeah,” she answers, her lips curling up at the corners. “At the end of it, we get to be married.”

We lean in to each other, our lips meeting in a slow kiss. I lower her carefully, draping my body over hers as we explore each other for a few long minutes.

“You know,” I breathe, pressing a little kiss to her chin. “When I asked you what you were thinking,” I pause and kiss the tip of her nose, “I kind of imagined you’d be thinking about how magnificent I am in bed.”

She snorts and reaches up to cup my face, pulling me back for another kiss. “I’m _always_ thinking about that,” she answers, kissing me again. Finally, she sighs and pushes at my shoulder, and I move off her. “All right. Bathroom.” She tosses off the blankets and I watch her until she disappears, closing the door most of the way behind her.

I flop onto my back, feeling extremely content. Other than all the crying we did, the sex was pretty phenomenal. It was amazing to reconnect like that. Things probably still won’t be a hundred percent between us, but it feels like we crossed a major hurdle tonight. I think we’ve officially moved out of “if” we’re getting married territory and back into “when” we’re getting married. It’s a huge relief to know that I haven’t ruined things with us permanently, that Donna loves me as much as she does despite what I put her through. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure she doesn’t regret this decision.

“Josh?”

I look up to find Donna standing in the bathroom doorway, completely, unabashedly naked, and I have trouble focusing on much else. I’m so focused on all of her skin that it takes me far too long to realize she’s asked me a question. “Huh?”

She smirks, her expression entirely smug. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Do you want to join me?”

I blink at her stupidly for a couple of seconds before I leap out of bed, running after her. In fact, I’d _love_ to join her.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hello everyone. I’m sure most of you know me but I’m Sam Seaborn, best man at tomorrow’s festivities.” I chuckle to myself as there’s a round of applause and some cheering, our guests obviously a few drinks in at this point. “I don’t want to say too much tonight and spoil my toast for tomorrow, but I do need to say all of us—the wedding party, I mean—are so excited to be here. Josh and Donna were a long time coming, and we’ve all watched them fall in love over the years. We’ve watched them grow and learn and fall apart and fall together, and tomorrow, they’re promising to love each other for the rest of their lives.” He pauses to clear his throat, suddenly looking choked, and Donna grabs my hand, squeezing my fingers.

CJ stands up, giving Sam a playfully disgusted look. “Most of us up here have known the two of them for a long time.” She pauses, smiling fondly at Sam and Toby, and raising her glass to Lou. “And some of us have known them for a shorter time, but in an entirely different way.” Annabeth and Helen nod in agreement, raising their own glasses for a moment in solidarity. “But I think we can all agree on two things. One; Josh and Donna are pretty perfect for each other, and two; it’s about damn time.” The room bursts into laughter, my mother clapping her hands the hardest as she gives me a pointed look. I just shake my head. If it’d been up to my mother, Donna and I would have gotten married not long after we first met and in hindsight…we definitely should have.

“We know it’s been a long evening,” Sam chimes in, “and I’m sure it’s been a long week for Josh and Donna and they’re probably both ready to just be married.” Donna nods her head, nestling in against my side. I lift my arm and wrap it around her shoulders, holding her close. “Tomorrow’s going to be fun and wonderful and a blur and probably nothing like they’re expecting so—”

“So we wanted to find some cheesy way to embarrass them,” CJ cuts in, grinning at us evilly. “Since it’ll probably be frowned upon tomorrow while we’re at their fancy wedding, we thought their rehearsal dinner would be the ideal moment.”

“Leave me out of this,” Toby says, giving his scotch glass a swirl. “I wanted nothing to do with this.”

“Killjoy,” Annabeth teases, and I stifle a groan, turning my face into Donna’s hair.

“Oh, God. What are they going to do to us?”

“So,” CJ continues, “we all pooled our resources, we talked to their parents and their families, we scoured the archives, and with the help of my husband and his uncanny ability to make a slideshow—” she pauses again as Danny stands halfway, waving his hand regally, “we’ve made a little something for the almost-newlyweds. We all agree that it’s suitably over-the-top and silly, and should be entertaining for us all. Maestro, if you will.”

I only have a few seconds to wonder who she’s talking to when the lights dim and large projector screen is pulled down. A message pops up— _Josh & Donna, February 21, 2009_—and music starts to play. Another screen comes up, this one says, _Our Humble Beginnings_ and I recognize the song. _For Once In My Life_. My baby picture pops up on the screen and I groan as the room around me bursts in to laughter, punctuated by the occasional “awww.” I shoot my mother an accusatory glance but she’s studiously ignoring me, her eyes glued to the screen. Naturally, Donna’s baby picture shows up after that, making her cringe as well. We’re then treated to an assortment of pictures from our youth—terrible haircuts, ridiculous Halloween costumes, school pictures, pictures of Donna in her band uniform and plenty of me from the two years I swore I was going to be a professional athlete and played every sport I could.

It’s quite humiliating, and I’m just glad the President had to leave early and didn’t get to see this. Though, judging by the smirk on Helen’s face, she’ll be finding a way to get this to him.

Oy.

Mercifully, there are only a few pictures of us from our college years—and most of mine are of me studying—and we’re all treated to pictures of me running around like a madman as I first start to get my feet wet in politics, but then the real stuff starts.

Suddenly, we’re seeing a slew of pictures I didn’t know existed. My breath catches in my throat as a picture of me and Donna hard at work on the first campaign slides into place. My God, she was so young. I squeeze my arm around her shoulders reflexively. Apparently, there are all sorts of pictures of us from the first Bartlet campaign; I had no idea. Granted, we’re not the focus of a lot of them but we’re in the background of plenty, usually with our heads together as we go over something that looks very important, or arguing over something, or, as it turns out, giving each other what seems to be longing looks. There are pictures of us using each other as pillows on buses and the occasional plane, and there are a _lot_ of pictures where I have my arm fairly possessively around her waist.

And all of this is from more than ten years ago. How the hell did I live in denial for as long as I did when it’s pretty obvious that I’ve been crazy about Donna for about as long as I’ve known her? I’d say the feeling was fairly mutual, but it’s definitely written all over my face.

I hear sniffling and look around, surprised to see that a lot of people seem to be dabbing at their faces. Though, I’m not shocked to see that my mother seems to be the worst offender. She’d hardly met Donna in person when she started telling me I should marry her, so I guess seeing for herself that I was completely smitten from the beginning and could have been with this woman for a decade now can be pretty emotional.

Donna squeezes my knee, but her eyes are locked on the screen. I can’t believe she didn’t see the way I looked at her back then.

The pictures roll on, showing all of us victory parties where Donna and I constantly had our arms wrapped around each other or sharing a glass of champagne, the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners the entire lot of us crammed into my apartment for during the transition into office, Donna and I dancing way too close for boss and assistant at the inaugural balls. The pictures from our time in the White House are fewer and farther between when most of us didn’t know if we should take pictures there or even had the time to think about it, but we’re still in the background of an awful lot of professional pictures from various functions. Even the ones she didn’t attend, she was always nearby if I needed her…and it seems that I always needed her.

“Did you know about this?” I whisper to Donna.

“Not a clue,” she answers. “This is amazing.”

That it is.

The music shifts, this time to something I definitely don’t recognize nor do I waste too much time trying to figure it out. There’s another caption on the screen— _Finding Our Way­_ —and there are pictures of me working on the Santos campaign, Donna working on the Russell campaign, and the times we’d interact, and since we were both fairly visible at that time, we’re definitely the focus of these pictures. It’s so weird to me that anyone would have captured any of these moments between us—these nothing, inconsequential moments—and then also held onto them, and _then_ our friends were able to track these people down and get copies of them. All in all, it’s pretty impressive.

The stuff from the Santos campaign is what really captures my attention, though, because our body language tells the entire story of what’s going on between us. Even though we’re standing side by side in some of them, it’s obvious we’re trying to not be aware of each other, and we look like we want to be anywhere but near the other. That stuff’s hard to see. It shifts pretty quickly, though, and I even remember that part—we gravitated back to each other within a couple of weeks. How could we not? We knew each other better than anyone else, and she’s always been my sounding board. The difference on this campaign was her demeanor. She wasn’t the young woman who’d picked up everything and moved across the country; she was a seasoned campaign veteran, someone who didn’t need me to explain the ins and outs of politics to her, someone who’d gone through hell and still wanted to make the world a better place.

Pictures of us with our heads together as we work on something, off in our own private corner as we try to solve the problems of the world become more frequent. Pictures show up from Ellie’s wedding, and I’m momentarily shocked; I’d forgotten just how hot Donna looked that day. I want to reach through time and grab my slightly younger self and smack him around. Donna was into me that day. She might have been into me other days but she was _not at all_ interested in hiding it at that particular moment. Granted, there was a lot happening at that time, not the least of which was me desperately trying to hold onto my job, but just seeing pictures of her in that dress makes it all come flooding back to me. She was _flirting_ with me. We could have been together then if I’d just taken my head out of my ass for a few seconds.

There’s suddenly a picture of me making the most ridiculous puppy eyes at her from across the room and I groan in embarrassment. I know when this is—it’s just after I kissed her for the first time. Donna looks completely cool and collected, as if kissing her former boss before dawn in a hotel room wasn’t at all out of the ordinary. I have my heart on my sleeve, looking at her as if I’m seeing her for the first time. I guess, in a way, I was. I had no idea before then that kissing her was going to feel the way it does. I didn’t know she would feel like home. I didn’t know kissing her would change the way I thought about everything. Though, for as unaffected as she seems in the pictures, she’s the one who tried to pass me her hotel key, so I guess those theatre classes when she was in college the first time paid off.

There are plenty of pictures from election night two years ago, which bring back a whole flood of memories, a lot of them tinged with sadness over losing Leo at the same time so many amazing things were happening. Hell, that was the first time Donna and I slept together. It was kind of a big deal. It seems, however, that after we found out we won, I did nothing but hug her for most of the night. Actually, it looks like she’s the only thing keeping me upright, and that was probably true. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I can feel the intensity of the emotions in those shots.

There’s another music shift and a new slide that says _You Fill Up My Senses._ I’m completely blaming Sam for these titles. He’s the most hopelessly romantic person I know and it completely tracks that he would be in charge of this level of schmaltz. The fact that he’s spot on isn’t something that I want to address, even to myself.

After that, of course, we move into mostly familiar territory, with pictures of our trip to Hawaii causing most of the people around us make strange little contented noises. There are some pictures our parents took when they visited during the holidays that year, and of course pictures from the inauguration in January. Oddly enough, we still look a bit like we’re trying to pretend there’s not much happening between us, and a couple of years has given me some perspective—we weren’t fooling anyone. Even if we weren’t taking out ads in the newspaper, there was no way to hide that things between us had changed. We’re still frequently off to the side, looking like we’re plotting something, but there’s a different sort of intimacy to it. I’m still making goo-goo eyes at her, though. It’s fairly pathetic.

That look on my face seems to be a trend in any picture going forward. There are pictures of us in Wisconsin and Florida, on our day trips to vineyards and breweries, pictures of us at CJ’s wedding, at Sam’s wedding, on our trip to Europe last summer, pictures of us at various work functions and events, and I’m consistently looking at her as if she hung the moon. I openly adore her. My arms are always around her and I’m always grinning from ear to ear. Seeing our relationship through this perspective gives me a lot of insight, and even though I’m already incredibly ashamed of how I treated her the last couple of months, this makes me feel even more so. Being able to see the way we look at each other makes me realize that we’re going to make it. It doesn’t matter how much we struggle, what we have is the real deal. It’s forever. We’ve put in a lot of work over the last decade and I don’t think that’ll ever stop.

And all of this wouldn’t be complete without the engagement pictures our parents made us take when we were in Wisconsin for Thanksgiving. I didn’t understand why they thought pictures were necessary considering we’d already been engaged for almost three months, it’d been in a couple of DC society pages so we’d definitely been “announced,” and our wedding was less than three months away at that point. I’ll admit, the pictures turned out nice, despite the fact that the photographer wanted to do something “natural” so he had us in the woods behind Donna’s parents’ house without jackets—though fortunately _with_ clothes, so it wasn’t as “natural” as I immediately assumed—and we were nearly frozen by the end of it—and we liked the photographer enough to actually hire him for the wedding to go along with the gaggle of official White House photographers. They felt unnecessary at the time but seeing the pictures now, especially in this context, makes them feel…poignant.

The last picture is from this past New Year’s Eve, which was probably one of the last times we were together before I went off the rails. We were at some excessively fancy party in formal wear. From the look of things, midnight was approaching or had just arrived. Either way, we’re clearly lost in our own little world, foreheads pressed together, smiles on our faces, my arms around her waist, her fingers gripping my bicep—naturally, her left hand is the one in the picture, so the engagement ring is twinkling, caught in the camera’s flash as if we planned it.

One last slide comes up; _I can’t wait for the rest of my life_. That sounds like something overly sentimental and romantic we might say to each other. It actually sounds like something one or both of us have probably said without thinking. I take a few deep breaths as the lights come up, hoping I don’t look like an emotional mess after that. Donna looks up at me, smiling, her eyes a little red and watery.

“Our friends are ridiculous,” she whispers.

“Definitely,” I answer, cupping her cheek and pulling her to me. I do my best to ignore the catcalls and whistles as I kiss her, but give it up after a few moments.

“Save it for the honeymoon!” someone yells, making everyone laugh.

Someone else taps on a glass and we all look up, Sam standing up again as he tries to get everyone’s attention. “Thank you for indulging us in this tonight. We know that it probably embarrassed the hell out of you two and, well, that was the point.” Everyone laughs again. “I know everyone’s having a good time but we don’t have this place booked for much longer so it’s time to say goodnight.”

“Plus,” CJ adds hastily, “tomorrow’s kind of a big day for a couple of people here, so we should let them get some sleep. We’ll see everyone tomorrow!”

Donna and I barely stand up before everyone’s swarming around us to give us hugs and shake hands. Mercifully, the crowd tonight is significantly smaller than what we’ll have tomorrow, but it still takes a lot of time to talk to everyone who insists on talking to us now.

Donna gets pulled away suddenly, and I can see her being led off by Carol and Margaret, her blonde hair disappearing before I can react. I gather her purse and our coats and try to figure out where she went and nearly run headfirst into CJ.

Even though she got in on Wednesday, I haven’t spent any time with her on my own. After talking to her on the phone a couple of weeks ago, I wasn’t sure if she wanted to have anything to do with me, and I was positive I didn’t want her to yell at me again. We both watch each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Finally, though, her cheek quirks up, giving me a half-smile. “That purse really brings out the color in your eyes.”

I hold it next to my face and bat my eyelashes, making her laugh. “Exactly what I was going for.” I toy with purse in my hands for a few moments—a clutch is what Donna actually calls it, and part of me can’t believe I’ve retained that bit of knowledge. “This is what my life is now,” I say, chuckling.

“I’ve got news for you, my friend; this has been your life for years.”

My eyes snap up to her, and my mouth opens as I’m ready to contradict her, but it shuts just as quickly. I’ve been carrying Donna’s stuff for a lot longer than we’ve been together. Any formal function that includes her also includes my pockets full of her essentials that can’t carry. It was always interesting to find her lipstick or something in a jacket pocket weeks later. “Yeah, I guess it has,” I finally answer. “It’s going to be my life for another few decades at least, too.”

“And you’re okay with that?” she asks, her voice soft but sharp, and my heart sinks just a little.

“CJ…”

“I just want to make sure. I know it’s between you and Donna but when she called me a couple of weeks ago in that much pain…I’ve never heard her like that before. I just want to make sure that she never feels like that again.”

“I know, I know. I’m an idiot—”

“It’s not about you being an idiot, it’s about you talking to the woman you love about what’s going on in your head. It’s about not shutting her out, especially when it counts the most. I’d be just as angry if she did the same thing to you.”

“You would?”

“Josh, you really are an idiot. Of course I would. You’re my friend, too, and I don’t want you to be treated badly by anyone, especially not the person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with. You’re family—you’re _both_ family—but the trouble is that you have a bit more of a history of being very bad with women. Knowing that you’d treated Donna of all people that way…I was ready to tear you limb from limb. Rest assured, though, that an equally suitable punishment would have been in store for her if the roles had been reversed.”

“It kills me that I hurt her,” I whisper, even though the crowd has thinned out considerably and there’s no one around to hear just how badly I treated Donna.

“I know.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“A little. She didn’t give me all the details but she told me a couple of weeks ago that you two were talking and working it out, and that you’d told her if that if she wanted to cancel or postpone the wedding, you’d be the one to tell everybody. She said that even if she woke up on the morning of the wedding and wasn’t sure, you’d break the news.”

“Of course I would. I owe her at least that much, and if my stupidity is what caused our wedding to be put on hold, then I should be the one to tell everyone.” I pause, sighing in frustration with myself. “You know, it was never that I didn’t want to marry her. You know that by now, right?” CJ nods, watching me carefully. “It just…I didn’t…I don’t want to end up breaking her heart somewhere down the road because I turn out to be just like all the other assholes in this town. She deserves better than that. She deserves better than me.”

“Be that as it may, you’re the one she wants. You’re just going to have to live with it.”

I chuckle again. “My cross to bear,” I answer, surprised to find that voice is a little choked and, if I’m not mistaken, tears prickling my eyes yet again.

“I’m no expert,” CJ says, “because I’ve only been married for about five minutes longer than you, so take any of this advice with a grain of salt, but I’m pretty sure the main thing you need to do is love each other. Marriage is different than what you have now, but the fundamentals are the same. Talk to each other, listen to each other, trust each other, stuff like that. Seems obvious, but it’s important. You two have been talking to each other for a lot longer than you’ve been doing anything else. It should be second nature by this point. But really, don’t follow anyone else’s example. Who cares if this town is filled with a bunch of assholes that don’t understand or care about how to be married? Even more important, don’t try to emulate successful relationships because what works for them won’t necessarily work for you. Do what feels right for the two of you and I think you’ll be okay.”

“That’s good advice, actually.” I rub my eyes for a few moments, trying to get myself under control. “So, we’re still friends?”

“We were never _not_ friends,” she whispers, pulling me into her arms, and we hug each other tightly. “I’m sorry I made you think otherwise.”

“Sisters before misters and all that,” I mumble, making her laugh. “I’ll try to do better.”

“That’s all anyone can ask for.”

We hold on for a few more minutes before we pull apart, giving each other watery smiles. A bit of movement catches my eye and I turn to see Donna a few feet away, smiling at us. “Please—don’t let me interrupt.”

We both laugh as she walks over to us and CJ meets her partway, grabbing onto her hands. “So…you’re marrying this big lug tomorrow?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.” A shiver—a good shiver—runs down my spine.

“And you’re sure about that?” I want to be mad that CJ’s asking, but I’ve been asking Donna the same thing for days now.

Donna’s eyes flick over to me and she smiles, and I’m happy to see that for the first time in weeks, I can’t find any reservations in her eyes. “Positive.”

“Good enough for me,” she answers, pulling Donna into a hug. They squeeze each other tightly, and it’s an oddly touching moment that almost reduces me to tears yet again. This doesn’t bode well for me for tomorrow. When they release each other, they both swipe at their eyes and laugh self-consciously.

I hold open Donna’s jacket, giving it a little shake. “Let’s get out of here.”

She lets me help her shrug into it, working her hair loose from under the collar before taking her clutch from me, fixing the collar on my jacket after I pull it on. “Some people were saying they’re hitting up a couple of bars or clubs tonight, keep the party going.”

“I heard the same thing,” CJ says, falling into step next to us.

I hold out my arm to Donna and she tucks her hand into my elbow. “Did you want to go with them?” I ask.

“Honestly, I’m way too tired for all that. The last few days with all the final details and everything have been exhausting. I just want to crawl into bed.”

“That sounds really good,” I answer, already imagining curling up with Donna and passing out.

CJ gives us a strange look but says nothing as we make out way outside to the stragglers. I’m surprised to find our parents out there among them; I can’t imagine any of them being interested in going out partying, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

“Well, you guys have a good time. Just try not to be too hung over tomorrow, all right?”

“No interest in one last night of freedom?” Charlie teases, and all I can do is roll my eyes.

“No, no, I’m good,” I say, readjusting my arm to wrap around Donna’s waist.

“We’re just going to head home. He can probably sleep in a little but I have to be up super early for…everything, I guess.”

“You’re not going home together,” her mom says, giving us a strange look.

“We’re not?” Donna asks, looking at me in confusion. “Are we staying somewhere else tonight?”

“You can’t see each other before the ceremony.”

“We can’t?” Donna asks, suddenly looking amused. “Why not?”

“It’s bad luck,” my mother says, nodding her head sagely.

“It is not,” Donna answers, and rolling her eyes at me. “That’s an old superstition that pertains to arranged marriages and has absolutely nothing to do with two consenting adults who live together.”

“If that’s the case—if you don’t think it’s bad luck—why hasn’t Josh seen your dress?” her mother counters, looking almost smug.

“Because he doesn’t want to see it until I’m walking down the aisle. It’s a request he made and I’m happy to honor it. Neither of us think it’s bad luck for him to see the dress ahead of time, though.”

“It won’t kill you to spend one night apart.”

“It might,” I mumble, and my mom whacks my arm.

“Don’t be rude,” she admonishes.

“Rude? I’m suddenly being told that I can’t spend the night before my wedding with the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my nights with. Forgive me if I’m a little confused.”

It’s then I’ve noticed that our friends have tried to subtly move away from what might turn into a brawl between us and our parents. Well, our mothers—my soon to be father-in-law hasn’t added his two cents yet.

“It’s a tradition, Joshua. Most couples don’t even live together before marriage so it’s not typically an issue.”

“Ma, most couples actually do live together before marriage nowadays. You’ve known for a very long time that we live together. If you had some notion that we wouldn’t be spending tonight with each other, why didn’t you say anything before now?”

She just looks confused. “Because you can’t see her before the ceremony.”

“Oh, good God,” I breathe, running a hand through my hair.

“Donna, you’re staying at the White House tonight,” Mrs. Moss says, looking excited. “The First Lady offered up a few rooms in the Residence so that we could all be nearby in the morning to get ready. All of your stuff is there for tomorrow.”

“All of my stuff? When did this happen?”

“Well, your dress has been there all week,” Helen says, trying to be helpful. “For safekeeping.”

“Yeah, sure, my _wedding day_ stuff has been there for a few days so I wouldn’t have to worry about it tomorrow morning. I don’t know anything about _me_ being there tonight, though.” She turns, lifting an eyebrow at Helen. “Have you been conspiring with my mother about this?”

Helen’s eyes grow wide and she shakes her head vigorously. “No! I only brought it up because I thought it was a foregone conclusion. I didn’t know that you didn’t know you weren’t going to spend the night with Josh. I just wanted to be helpful and since we have the most space…I thought it would be a sort of girls’ night. Everyone’s going to be there—CJ, Annabeth...” her voice trails off and she shuffles her feet a little, shrugging.

“I got some stuff together for you this morning,” Donna’s mom adds in. “Pajamas, tooth brush, clothes for tomorrow before you put on the dress. It’s all at the White House.”

“I just don’t understand why all of you decided that Donna and I aren’t allowed to spend the night before our wedding together.”

“I don’t understand why this is a shock to you,” my mom counters, putting her hands on her hips. “This tradition is older than all of us put together.”

“Have either of us once mentioned staying anywhere else? In all this time, has this ever come up before this very moment? There are a lot of old traditions that people don’t abide by anymore—”

“Josh,” Donna says softly. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not! I—”

She grabs my hand and pulls me a few feet down the sidewalk, stopping when we’re out of earshot. “Let them have this.”

“What? You’re agreeing with them?”

“Absolutely not, but I don’t have it in me to fight with everyone over this tonight. I would much rather be with you but this is going to be easier so…let’s just concede.”

“Donna,” I say with a heavy sigh. “We’ve given up so much for this wedding already.”

“I know, and we both knew going into it that we’d have to agree to a lot of things that we wouldn’t necessarily have considered otherwise. This is just going to have to be one of those things.”

She looks so tired and defeated right now that I don’t have the heart to argue with her, especially because I don’t think we’re going to win this one. “I don’t want to upset you.”

She smiles, stepping closer to me. “ _You’re_ not the one upsetting me right now. Honestly, I would love nothing more than to go home and fall into bed with you but I really don’t think this is a fight worth having. I really don’t think a single person considered what we would want in this equation because they all assumed that we’d do the superstitious thing. If this had been brought up to me before now I might have been more amenable to it but…I think we just have to let it go. I’ll go have my pajama party with my faithful handmaidens and you’ll…well, just don’t take it out on your mother, okay?”

I nod, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Okay. I just wish I’d had more time to prepare than five minutes. It feels stupid to be upset over it but…I don’t know. It’s just one more decision that we didn’t get to make. One more thing that no one bothered to consult us on.”

“I know,” she whispers. She steps into me and we wrap our arms around each other, breathing deeply. I really shouldn’t be the one complaining about that considering Donna’s the one that’s been dealing with all of that while I’ve kept my head buried in the sand, but it still feels like another injustice. “I guess…it’ll be kind of fun to not see each other at all before we get married tomorrow. It’ll build the anticipation. Make the moment even better.”

“I love you so much for trying to look on the bright side,” I answer with a laugh. “It’s only a few extra hours, right?”

“Just a few extra hours. No big deal.”

“So,” I say, taking her face in my hands. “I’ll see you at the altar?”

“I’ll be the one who looks like a fancy cupcake. You won’t be able to miss me.”

“For the record, I absolutely hate this.”

“Me, too.”

“But you’re also correct. It’s not a fight worth having. We’ll just…smile and nod and after tomorrow, we’ll lay down some ground rules for our life.”

“I like it.” She smiles at me, her head tilting to the side a little. “I love you.”

My heart stops for a few moments as I look at her. By this time tomorrow, she’s going to be my wife. The next time I see her will be when she’s coming down the aisle.

Our parents and most of our friends have no way of knowing that we’ve only just started sleeping next to each other again. They don’t know that I’ve been a major league jerk and wouldn’t even bother to crawl into bed with her for a few hours before disappearing again. They don’t know why spending the night together is such a big deal right now.

I pull her into me, kissing her as hard as I can. She responds just as fiercely, clinging to me as if we won’t see each other ever again.

Someone—Donna’s dad, I think—clears their throat and we part reluctantly. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I whisper, giving her another quick kiss.

“Not if I see you first,” she answers, making me smile. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

She gives me one last squeeze and untangles herself, heading toward Helen and her detail, waiting to take them to the White House. I’m guessing everyone else who’s going with them has gotten into the limo because the crowd on the sidewalk has thinned considerably. I watch as Donna gets into the car and the door shuts behind her. I watch as the small army of vehicles pull away from the front of the restaurant, taking Donna what amounts to a matter of minutes from where I’ll be tonight. I’m still unbelievably irritated that this decision was made for us, “tradition” or not; it feels like something that should have been mentioned before tonight. I would have supposed that I missed it with the way I behaved the last couple of months, but Donna seemed just as confused as I was. Still, Donna’s right. It’s not worth fighting about right now, and it’s easier to smile and nod.

It is a stupid tradition, though.

Once they’re out of sight, my mom takes my arm, giving me a little tug.

“Come on, darling boy. Let’s get you home. You have a big day tomorrow.” I can’t help but grin at her words.

That I do.

That I do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else has the audacity to include a slideshow set to music that none of you can see or hear? I’m kind of an ass that way. At any rate, thank you for reading. Be kind to each other. Don’t be douche bags. Always remember that your head canon isn’t anyone else’s head canon and that’s what makes fanfiction so cool. Don’t gatekeep a fandom, especially when someone doesn’t agree with your head canon. Let’s let this be a creative outlet and, you know, if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all (or slide into their DMs, but be prepared to have your “helpful comments” brutally rebuffed).
> 
> Still trying to work on stuff. I’ve got a lot of…something…written. I’m not sure if it’s good or really stupid, but it’s a really slow process on that one, and I’m reluctant to post any of it if I can’t write it with regularity. I’m hoping to hit a groove with it at some point, though, so fingers crossed.

**Author's Note:**

> The long awaited (?) sequel to Fourteen Days. I’m still working on it all, but I want to give fair warning that the next part will be adult-oriented. I’d like to keep it all as one story, and I’d like to keep the rating as is so that everyone can find this if they want to read it. I think there’s probably some stuff that’ll be worth reading in part two, even if you don’t go for adult content, but you should be able to skip it without missing much. I’m hoping for a third chapter to this, too, that’ll be family friendly to wrap it all up, so stay tuned.


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